


Silver Linings Playbook

by wordslikeknives



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:24:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslikeknives/pseuds/wordslikeknives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite losing everything, Blaine Anderson believes in silver linings. After an eight month stint in a mental institution, Blaine is back in Ohio and hoping to get back on his feet. All he wants to do is sing and reunite with his husband, Sebastian, no matter how much his family and friends attest to the latter. When Blaine meets Kurt, a difficult man with his own set of problems, things start to get a little bit complicated. Based on the movie/book of the same title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Linings Playbook

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: language, references to sexual situations, body issues and an limited amount of knowledge on psychological problems
> 
> This is for Syukrina, whose birthday is soon and who deserves a present for putting up with my loud self.
> 
> Any questions, message me on http://www.colfersthrone.tumblr.com  
> Hope you enjoy!

_You have to do everything you can, and if you stay positive you have a shot at a silver lining._

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

I punch the bag hard, matching them with the rhythm of the music blasting from my speakers. The punches get louder and my fists start to hurt and my head’s pounding but I keep punching because if I don’t get in shape then [Sebastian ](http://static3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130914014629/theflash/images/8/86/Grant_Gustin.jpg)won’t love me and I’ll never see him again and I can’t bear that because it’s been eight months and I’ve been counting.

 _Left hook, uppercut, right cross_ -

The doctors call it “Apart Time” but I don’t like how it sounds because it makes me feel like we’re actually “apart” and not “together” and that makes me sad, because I love Sebastian and Sebastian loves me and as soon as Apart Time ends we’ll be together again and things won’t be so confusing anymore because sometimes I wake up and my head hurts and I don’t know why and that song comes on and it makes me sick.

 _Uppercut, right cross, jab_ -

They say that I have a mental illness. I don’t believe them because doctors lie and I know that I’m fine because I’m twenty-seven and I was doing alright and I still have no idea how I landed in this place and I’m trying to understand why I get these weird images in my mind and voices in my head-

 _Straight punch, left hook, right cross_ -

The door behind me creaks open and I don’t slow my punches. I don’t even have to look up to know [Mom](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcmuzvdD3y1qzmvoio1_250.png) is making her surprise visit. I can smell her perfume and it reminds me of those summers that I had spent in the garden with Cooper and how she’d bake us cookies when we were tired from all the football we played.

I really miss those days.

“Blaine?” she says when I don’t look at her and continue my boxing. “Just how long are you planning to punch that bag for?”

“Sebastian---likes---a---man---with---a---developed---upper---body,” I say, punctuating each word with a loud hit, tasting the salty sweat that’s running into my mouth.

Mom doesn’t say anything for a moment, and the room’s quiet except for my pants and grunts and the sound of the bag being hit by my fists. I pretend she’s not there, and instead I picture all the faces of the doctors in this bad place that say that I need to keep having Apart Time from Sebastian and I punch the bag harder because that usually gives me the adrenaline rush that I need to really feel and for everything to feel different in a good way.

“Blaine,” she tries again, an uneasy tone in her voice as she steps in front of me and I see her and she looks like she’s crying, “how do you feel about leaving this place and coming home with me?”

I stop punching, turn my face towards her and squint. “Are you saying I can leave the bad place?” Mom smiles and nods eagerly, her tears glisten under the fluorescent lights. I know she’s not joking because her mouth isn’t twitching, and I know that when it does it means she’s lying. I take a breath-- one, two, three-- I count to ten. Mom cocks her head to the side and waits for an answer, and after I shudder a small ‘yes’ does she give a happy clap.

I pack my things and give a small wave of goodbye to my roommate. I don’t really know his name because he’s always sleeping and whenever he’s awake he just sings songs by The Beatles to himself. He gives me a small nod when I’m halfway out the door, and I realize that’s the first and last form of interaction we’ll ever have together, which makes me slightly sad.

I walk back to the admissions office and find Mom signing legal papers for my dismissal. The receptionist gives me a small smile and I smile back. Dr. Martin is standing next to her, standing straight in his white coat. When he sees me he offers a hand for me to shake, which I do. “Enjoy your life,” he says to me-- wearing that sober look of his-- before he lets go. He turns on his heel and walks out, and then it fully hits me what’s happening.

I’m leaving the bad place.

Apart Time is over.

 

* * *

 

When we get into the car, Mom switches on the radio and hums to a tune I don’t really know. I look out of the window as she drives out of the bad place, and I turn around to give it a final glance before looking back in front. Mom starts to explain that Dr. Martin did not want to let me out of the bad place, but with the help of a few lawyers and her girlfriend’s therapist-- the woman who will be my new therapist-- she waged a legal battle and managed to convince some judge that she could care for me at home, so I thank her.

On the highway, she looks over at me and asks if I want to get better, saying, “You do want to get better, Blaine. Right?”

I nod. I say, “I do.”

She smiles at me before she turns her direction back towards the road, and after a few moments of conflicting thoughts, I ask:

“When can I see Sebastian?”

I lurch in my seat as Mum swerves the car-- my entire body feeling like it’s going to jump. When she stabilizes the car back onto the right track, she turns to me for the briefest second and sighs. “Blaine,” she says, “you do know that you can’t see Sebastian until he agrees to lift the restraining order?”

“But we’re married, Mom,” I argue, “as long as we’re married then I think that I should have the right to communicate with my husband in some sort of way.”   

She bites her lip, ignoring my words as she directs her attention back to the road. Five minutes later and we’re arriving in Lima, my hometown. Things haven’t really changed, but there are so many more boutiques and expensive-looking restaurants and businessmen or women who are rushing to their jobs and talking frustratedly into their phones.

I pass the time by watching the different people we drive by, coming up with different stories for each of them. I see a woman staring at the flower bushes that line up the outside of a person's apartment, and I start to imagine an elaborate tale on how her husband passed away a few years ago and he had given her flowers for the days that she felt horrible. I see a man pulling his dog by the collar and I think of how he found it when it was a puppy in a dark alley a few years back. I look at the people and I think of their stories before I start to wonder on what other people think of me when they pass by. Do they see a broken man who wants the love of his life back? Or do they see a man who's been stuck in a place where no one would ever want to be put?

I don't notice Mum pulling into her- I mean, our- driveway, until she lightly taps me on the shoulder and jerks her head toward the house.

It hasn't changed much since the last time I've seen it, but the paint seems to be slowly peeling off, and I notice the carnations that were previously planted beneath the bottom windows are now replaced with Bougainvillea's. It's a nice sight, but it's a weird change.

Change is good, I think.

I make sure Mum doesn't have to help me with my luggage by running quickly to the boot to retrieve it, gripping it firmly by the handle and dragging it into the house with little hassle. Ever since I started working out at the gym after being put in the bad place, I've gotten much stronger, especially with the boxing that I did. I hope there's a gym nearby, because I once read that if the number of times you exercise a week differs, your weight will increase! I don't want that to happen because that happened before and Sebastian didn't like it, which is one of the reasons why I think that he isn't talking to me, because he still thinks I'm overweight which I'm not, because I've been working hard for him because I miss him desperately and I just really, really want Apart Time to be over-

"Blainey!" I hear a call, and I'm soon pulled into a hug that almost crushes my bones. When I pull away, I see the beaming face of [Cooper](http://images2.fanpop.com/image/photos/10700000/Matt-Bomer-matt-bomer-10735675-1000-1500.jpg), my brother, and soon I'm smiling as well. I missed Cooper.                              

"How are you, man? You look great!" He exclaims, holding me by the shoulders and his eyes rack up and down my body. He ruffles my hair and his grin widens, "I'm so glad you're finally ditching the gel! I told you the curls suit you better, but alas, you never listened." He shakes his head and tuts, and it's only then that I reach up to feel the curls that don't spring sideways and upwards like it [used to](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3sdpsyS1l1ru20ulo1_1280.png). They're much tamer now compared to the days that it sprang and stuck out like a bush, so I think[ I look ](http://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/27500000/Darren-Criss-hottest-actors-27535808-599-901.jpg)much better than I did before.

Again, I think change may be good.

Cooper slings an arm around my shoulder and starts to tell me about how he's looking into scripts that he knows will put him on track again. Coop hasn't acted in ages, ever since he married Serena and had Thomas (who he assures me are doing quite well thank you very much). He's still working as a lawyer ( _"It's all about the pointing, buddy. Seriously, it really emphasizes my feelings to the jury"_ ) and he's been planning this for months. Coop starts telling me about the character he's landed and the storyline of the show. I don't tell him it sounds like a really cliched 80's rip off because I'm working harder to be less honest on things that might hurt people. This is another thing that I'm trying to improve about myself because if you're positive, than positive things will happen to you. I once read that this is called Karma, and this was something that was thought of by people who are believers in Hinduism. I also read that Karma is a Sanskrit word for "action". Wow! Sebastian laughed at it when I told him, and he'd called it "credulous bullshit".

"Babe," he had said, "if Karma exists then I'm pretty sure I'd be in a very, very different situation right now."

Coop tells me that he has to run to the store to buy a few snacks for his son. He's out of the door and then Mum is telling me that she needs to take a nap after the drive, so she starts to head upstairs after I give her a small kiss on the cheek.  

My [father’s](http://files.zapster.it/zapster-media/multimedia/3300/3214/big/04.jpg) sitting on the dining room table when I walk in, his spectacles are perched on the bridge of his nose and his brow's furrowed the way it always is when he’s concentrating really hard. He only notices me when I give a little cough and stand awkwardly at the table in front of him. He studies me for a second and then he tells me that I've lost weight. I nod. I say thank you. He nods back and returns to his work. Our usual greeting. I don't expect anything else, so I turn on my heel and walk away.

My father is a good man. He works very hard to pay the bills and to keep Mum happy, and he's always been very serious about my education. I used to be sad because I thought that he hardly spoke to me because he didn't love me, but then Coop had told me that he never spoke to him so that had made me feel slightly better. He doesn't speak about much other than work or finances, and he tries to avoid talking about my sexuality. It used to hurt, but I'm okay now.

When I enter my old room, I see that not much has changed either. A lot of my books from high school are still tucked on the shelves and a few of my trophies are still perched on the top of my cupboard. My plaid blanket is still there even after all these years. I look at it and I see that it’s not dusty, which means that Mum might have brought it to the cleaners recently. I smile. It has been a long day, so I lie down on my bed and close my eyes for a few minutes and decide to rest.

It’s not long before Sebastian’s smiling face greets my dreams, and I take his outstretched hand and follow him into our little New York apartment.

 

* * *

 

I wake at seven in the morning because Cooper barges in and bangs a pot with a kitchen spoon. He tells me that I need to wake up because it’s a beautiful day out and it is, so I slip out of bed and head towards my bathroom. The sky is a lovely blue, and I need to keep my daily workout in check. I put on my jogging clothes and I go out the door, only starting to run when I’m several feet away from my house. I pass my town’s Catholic church that I used to attend, and then I pass my old high school, and then the house my grandparents used to own by the park before they died.

My old best friend sees me when I run past his comic store near the Lima Bean. [Sam](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/32100000/Chord-at-the-VMA-s-2012-chord-overstreet-32154874-2000-3000.jpg) is just opening the store, when I pass him on the sidewalk. He looks me in the eyes, and after I have passed, he yells, “Blaine Anderson? Is that you?Blaine! Hey!” I don’t feel like talking to him right now, but I know that I have to start being nice for good stuff to happen to me (Karma, I chant) so I stop and smile. He pulls me into a hug and it’s very warm and it reminds me of the hugs he used to give me back in high school. I haven’t been hugged like this in a while, which makes my eyes tear up slightly. I blink it fast because Sam’s starting to pull away and I don’t want to worry him because worrying people is something that isn’t good. He has a very big smile when he holds me by the shoulders, which makes me happy. “Bro, you’ve lost weight! How are ya, buddy?”

“Great.” I say.

He looks me up and down and starts asking me questions about my life and how I’ve been the past few years. I tell him I’m doing great, and he congratulates me. He tells me that he’s the owner of a comic book store franchise and that he has seven more outlets in Ohio, which he tells me are all doing very well. I  listen and I add comments where I deem necessary and then Sam’s asking me about what it was like at the bad place. I don’t want to lie so I tell him that it was horrible and that I would have rather stuck my head in a boiling pot of acid than to have been stuck there. Sam starts to look slightly uncomfortable so I ask him if he’s seen Sebastian, and I try not to look sad when he tells me no.

“Hey”, he says, “remember Rachel Berry?” I nod, “Well she really did get married to Finn Hudson in the end, and she heard that you were in town and she wanted me to ask you if you’d like to come over for dinner tomorrow? I was actually heading to your house after work to ask, but since you’re here and all...” he shrugs his shoulders and smiles the way he did when he wanted something from a girl or when the teachers would tell him off for doing his impressions in class. His impressions always made me laugh, and Rachel and Finn always were really nice people, so I say yes. He yells “awesome!” like he did when he was happy and tells me to be there at seven. We say our goodbyes and I turn and continue my jog.

 

* * *

 

Mum interrupts my daily boxing session with a knock on the basement door. She tells me that I have an appointment with Dr. Liew, my new therapist. I ask if I can go in the evening, after I have done my best to strengthen my biceps for today, but Mum says I’ll have to go back to the bad place if I do not keep my appointments with Dr. Liew, and that’s the last thing I want so I tell her that I’ll meet her at the car in a moment.

I shower and then Mum drives me to Dr. Liew’s office, which is near the McDonald’s drive-thru that I used to go to a lot when I lived here. That’s another reason why I probably got really overweight a few years back, so I look away and count to ten and try my best to avoid temptation.

When we arrive, I take a seat in the waiting room as Mum fills out some more paperwork. I start to feel bad because Mum’s been taking care of me for the past day or so and I think that she’s going to have lots of good Karma soon, and that makes me cheer up. I’m really doing my best to keep up with this whole Karma thing because that means I’ll see Seb soon, and my stomach flips at the thought of it.

As I sit there flipping through an issue of Entertainment Weekly, listening to the easy-listening station Dr. Liew pumps into her waiting room, I’m suddenly hearing the fast plucking of an electric guitar and a few beats of a drum before I hear Katy Perry’s sultry and smitten voice sing the opening lines of Teenage Dream. And I’m out of my seat, screaming, kicking chairs, flipping the coffee table, picking up piles of magazines and throwing them against the wall, yelling, “It’s not fair! I don’t want to hear this! I’m not an emotional lab rat!”

And then a small Asian woman-- maybe only five feet three or so, wearing a little brown coat, black khaki’s and black boots-- is calmly asking me what’s wrong.

“Turn off that music!” I yell. “Shut if off! Right now!”

The tiny woman is [Dr. Liew](http://uschina.usc.edu/Files/images/201212/2012tvliu.jpg), I realize, because she tells her secretary to turn off the music, and when she obeys, Katy Perry is out of my head and I stop yelling.

I collapse onto a nearby chair and cover my face with my hands so no one will see me crying, and after a minute I feel my mother’s hand on my shoulder.

It’s a few minutes later when I finally get up and follow Dr. Liew into her office, leaving Mum and the secretary to clean up the mess I made.

Dr. Liew’s [office ](http://helenbritten.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/web-psychiatrist-office.jpg)is something that I’ve seen so many times before in the movies-- a long couch (for me to sit on) opposite a leather chair (for Dr. Liew). The walls are all lined with shelves with books and certificates that all have her name scrawled neatly onto it. On certain areas, there are plants that have vines falling down like spiders. Dr. Liew walks towards her seat and gently sits herself down before she looks back up and beckons me to the couch across her. I have to admit, I feel calm as soon as I enter Dr. Liew’s office and do not really mind anymore that I heard the Katy Perry song.

When I take my seat, Dr. Liew laces her hands together and smiles, leaning back in her chair and throwing one leg over the other. She seems much more relaxed than what I thought a normal psychiatrist would be like, and that surprises me in a good way.

“Relax,” she says, “And no Dr. Liew. Call me Casey. I like to keep sessions informal. Friendly, right?”

She seems nice enough, so I lean back onto the couch and feel my head rest against a very soft pillow, and I try to relax.

“So,” she starts. “The Katy Perry song really got to you. I can’t say I’m a fan either but...”

I close my eyes, hum a single note, and silently count to ten, blanking my mind.

When I open my eyes, she continues, “Does the song bring out some memories that you don’t want to remember? I could help, you know- though that’s entirely up to you.”

I close my eyes again, but this time I see flashes of memories. I see Sebastian on the Dalton staircase as a new transfer, and I remember taking his hand and running down the corridor before I start my impromptu performance of Teenage Dream with the Warblers. I see us dancing to it at our wedding, my hands running up and down his back while his body is bent so he can rest his head on my shoulder. I see us singing it to each other as it comes on the radio on our way to dinner. I see myself coming home from work, hearing it play from our stereo before walking up into our bathroom and finding Sebastian in the shower with another man...

I don’t even realize that I’m screaming and pulling my hair before Dr. Liew- I mean, Casey- is sitting beside me, speaking into my ear in a soothing voice and telling me to calm down, and I eventually do, but when I stop, my breathing is quick, and my lungs feel like it’s going to collapse. We sit in silence, and when I look up at Casey, she seems unfazed. She asks me if I’m ready to speak again and I tell her to give me a few minutes so I can recover, so she waits. When I’m ready, I turn to her and I give a small nod.

“Okay. So I can tell that you don’t really like that song, so we’re going to talk about things you want to talk about.”

“Okay.”

"So, what would you like to talk about, Blaine?”

I look up at the ceiling for a few moments before I turn my head back toward her and ask, “Can I talk about Sebastian?”

“Of course. I’m here to listen.”

I begin to feel better because a lot of people don’t like it when I start talking about Seb. They often tell me to give up or try and change the topic, but I really want to talk about him, so this is a nice change. “Sebastian’s great,” I say, and then smile, feeling the warmth that fills my chest whenever I mention his name. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love him more than life itself. And I just can’t wait until Apart Time is over.”

 “Apart Time?”

 “Yeah. Apart Time.”

“What is Apart Time?”

“The doctors at the bad place use that word to describe me being away from Seb. I agreed to give him space after something and he told me that he’ll see me whenever he can. So we’re apart, but only temporarily.”

 “Why did you separate?”

“Because I guess I got quite selfish and tended to work myself really hard until I didn’t pay much attention to him. Also because I may have let myself go and I had gained about fifty pounds and got really overweight, but I’m doing my best to work hard so I can get much fitter and that’s working so far and I think I’m on my way to getting him back.”

 “So you think that he doesn’t love you based on just your appearance?”

“He still loves me,” I argue, getting slightly defensive, “I just meant that he wasn't very happy with the weight that I had gained, but he still loves me. I know he does, alright?" I don't like the way that she makes Seb sound so antagonistic, and that makes me slightly irritated. Casey pauses for a second before she nods, unfolding her legs and leaning back against the couch. "So what do you like to do, Blaine?"

"I like boxing."

"My father was a boxer, he used to play every weekend at the ring downtown.

 "Really?"

 "Yeah."

 "Cool."

“What else do you like?"

"I like singing,

“Singing?”

“Yeah, singing.”

“As a hobby?” she asks, leaning in and perching her chin on her hands. She looks earnest, and I can tell that she’s genuinely interested, which makes me smile wide. “I was in my glee club back in high school,” I say proudly, sitting up and looking at Casey, “the Dalton Academy Warblers.” She cocks her head to the side and smiles too, “Oh, what was your role?”

“Lead soloist.” I reply feeling slightly abashed.

“Wow! I’d love to hear you sing some time. Do you still sing?”

“Not as much,” I shrug, “I’ve been focusing more on getting back with Sebastian.” I see Casey’s shoulders slump slightly, but she regains herself and sits up straight. We talk for hours on end; about my feelings, about Sebastian, about different things that have happened at different times and that have affected me in some way or another. She doesn’t pry, and when she ask things that make me close my eyes and hum until ten, she drops it. I like Casey a lot. She’s really nice and she really listens when I talk, and I don’t think I’ve had that in a while. The doctors at the bad place often always focused on the negative and I’d get really angry. At four, Casey tells me that our session is over, and I feel slightly sad because I really enjoy talking to her, but then Mum comes in and tells me that our session had been three hours and I really do understand what people mean when they say “time flies when you’re having fun.”

When I get up to leave, Casey tells me that she’s changing the medication that I’m currently on. I thank her as I wave goodbye and head out her door, and as soon as I enter the waiting room I see Casey’s secretary flinch. I feel bad for scaring her, so I walk up towards her desk and mutter a small ‘sorry’. She seems slightly surprised, but she smiles and shakes her head, telling me that it wasn’t a big deal.

On the drive home I tell my mother that I really like Casey and am feeling much more hopeful about my therapy. I thank her for getting me out of the bad place, saying Sebastian is far more likely to come back to Lima than a mental institution, and when I say this, Mum starts to cry, which is so strange. She even pulls off the road, rests her head against the steering wheel, and with the engine running, she cries for a long time--sniffling and trembling and making crying noises. So I rub her back like she’s done for me over the years and after a few moments, she simply stops crying and drives me home.

I get back home and I see my dad sitting on the family couch, flipping through different sheets of paper and his brow is furrowed in concentration, which tells me that he’s working, so I decide not to disturb him and head to my room.

There’s a note on my dresser from Coop, and he’s raving about how Sunday will be his first day on set of his new production and he really wants me to see it. I know I will because I’m really proud of him and I haven’t seen him act in a while. I take the note and pin it to the cork board in my room before approaching my bed and sprawling myself on top.

I close my eyes and think about Sebastian until he comes to be with me in my dreams-like always.

 

* * *

 

Yes, I really do believe in silver linings, mostly because I see them everyday in different situations. I see it when I jog around my neighbourhood and I see things that make me believe.

Since my husband asked for some time apart, I’ve lost more than forty pounds, and my mother says that I’m already at the weight that I was back in high school. Wow! I’m really proud of myself, so when I meet Sebastian, I’m sure he’ll be very impressed with the work that I’ve done to make him notice.

I’ve started to sing again too because Sebastian told me that one of the main reasons why he fell for me hard was because of my voice. I’ve been practicing my scales and my vocal chords everyday with different songs I hear on the radio that I find really catchy. I’ve taken up the piano again and I’m trying to remember how to play the guitar, even if it was ages ago.

When I go out running, I believe that the clouds in the sky are clear and the people around me are happy. That’s a silver lining, and to me, I think that’s some God’s message telling me that Sebastian will come back soon.

So I run, and when I do, I always pretend that I’m running toward Seb, and it makes me feel like I am decreasing the amount of time I have to wait until I see him again.

 

* * *

 

Mum knocks on my door at six. I watch as she shuffles in, holding something under her arm. “I got you clothes for Finn and Rachel’s dinner!” she says, walking to my bed and laying them across the sheets. My eyes widen as I take in the [outfit](http://www.aceshowbiz.com/images/news/darren-criss-performs-original-songs-responds-to-gotye-s-dinky-comment.jpg)\- a deep purple dress shirt with a dark grey suit. It’s the nicest outfit I’ve had since prom, so I look up at my mother and I throw my arms around her neck.  
  

“You didn’t have to buy me this,” I say.

“I think you deserve it.” she replies.

So I get out of bed and I change into my clothes and I leave home at six fifty. It’s a five minute walk from my house to Rachel and Finn’s, so I pass the time by playing the guessing game, where I look at people and come up with their life stories.

When the door to Finn and Rachel’s opens, I’m almost immediately tackled to the ground. There’s a loud laugh in my ears as the person pulls back, and I smile when I see [Rachel](http://www.whatsheworeblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/lea-michele-tca-2013-all-star-party-outfit.jpg), bright and sunny as ever as she smiles and kisses me hard on the cheek. She pulls away and I look up to see [Finn](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XKxrDj6hw1o/UeQtwkovEMI/AAAAAAAABPc/NboefJX6r9c/s1600/cory-monteith-raising-the-roof-01.jpg), still as tall as I remember, sporting the same goofy grin as he pulls me into a bear-crushing hug. These two, they were my friends. Without them, I don’t think I would have ever survived high school. Rachel clasps her hands together, “Gosh, it’s been forever since we’ve seen you!” she says, pulling me into their house by the arm, “You’ve lost so much weight, Baine, and you look devilishly handsome.” she gives a little wink to Finn, who only laughs in return.

They give me a tour of their home, and I nod when appropriate as Rachel gives an alarmingly long speech as we go through each room. She’s the same as high school, speaking without breathing and it still kind of worries me. When we settle into the living room, Rachel gestures me to the couch and announces that she’ll make refreshments whilst we wait for the final guest. I look at Finn who smiles meekly.

“My brother- Well, step-brother, whatever, he’s coming over for dinner as well.”

“Step-brother?”

“Kurt! He’s kind of my brother from another mother,” Finn grins, “our parents got married about seven years ago. He’s great,” he looks slightly nervous now, “but he’s kind of... off-ish. Now. He’s kind of different since his husband died.”

“Oh.” I say.

“Yeah, he’s gay too. Not like we’re trying to set you two up, or anything!” Finn panics, gesturing around wildly, “ Like, that’s totally not cool, because Kurt’s like, still in love with Eric even though he’s gone and stuff and you’re like still married to Sebastian so-”

“Finn, it’s okay,” I smile, putting a hand on his shoulder, “it’s fine. Seb and I are still together, so...”

“Cool.” Finn nods, and I’m grateful because he’s the first person to not tell me that Sebastian’s not coming back, so I nod in return.

“So,” I start, rubbing  my hands up and down my slacks, “how did he die?”

“How did _who_ die?” comes a high voice.

And then I realize we’re not alone, because there’s a [man](http://cdn03.cdn.justjared.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/colfer-august/chris-colfer-august-man-february-2013-exclusive-03.jpg) standing at the doorway, high coiffed hair and dark coat and grey scarf, his eyes narrowed and his chin held high. There’s no other word to describe him... except pretty. He’s very pretty. I feel bad because that’s the best description I can come up with. Finn stands and introduces us, and the way Kurt’s staring at me makes me feel funny.

Dinner is nice, I speak when spoken to and I add comments when necessary. Kurt’s sitting quietly across, playing with his food and looking everywhere but at the other dinner guests. Finn and Rachel seem to be trying to tell us everything we can know about each other without actually having us have an actual conversation.

“Kurt’s really good at fashion design.”

“Blaine’s got killer vocal chords and he’s really good at piano playing.”

“Kurt has an amazing range.”

“Blaine wears bowties-”

“Kurt wears scarves-”

Kurt’s obviously had enough, because he pushes his glass away and leans his head on his chins. “So Blaine,” he starts, looking at me in that funny way again, “what crazy pills does your therapist give you?”

The look of horror on Finn and Rachel’s face would have been an excellent snapshot.

The question doesn’t bother me, so I shrug my shoulders and reply, “Not much. Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I take Ambiem.”

“Ambiem,” Kurt drawls, “I used to take that too. You take Xanax?”

“Xanax! Yeah, that messes me up. I’ll take it and find myself awake two days later. It’s like, “Whatttt?””

He laughs. He has a nice laugh. “Totally. It really screws you over. My therapist threw such a bitch fit when she found out I was taking more than I should have,” he waves a hand, “kind of a drag.”

Rachel’s beginning to look really uncomfortable, so she says, “Kurt, I don’t think that’s appropriate table talk. Tonight’s all about fun!” she sings, shaking her shoulders for emphasis. Kurt fixes a really hard stare at her and stands up.

“I’m tired.” he announces.

“What? But we’ve barely finished dinner, and we still have to test out my karaoke machine and see whether Blaine’s still as-”

“I said I’m tired.”

There’s a silence.

“So are you going to walk me home or what?”

I don’t realize that Kurt’s talking to me until I see him staring at me expectantly.

“Sure,” I say, because I’m practicing to be kind.

 

* * *

 

It’s a really cold night, so I cross my arms and hunch my shoulders whilst Kurt buries himself in his coat as we walk, hiding half of his face into his scarf. I ask where he lives and he gives a small snort.

“With my parents, okay?”

“Okay.”  

We walk in complete silence until he stops us in front of a cozy looking home. He turns to me and stares at the ground before looking up. “So I haven’t done this in a while, so I’m not sure how this goes.” I blink. “How what goes?”

Kurt rolls his eyes and gives a scoff, “Don’t play dumb. I saw how you stared at me and you know I kept looking at you. I hate how you ate Rachel’s fries with a fork and I hate how excited you got over Finn and his football team. I live in the addition at the back of the house, and my parents are out, so I’ll let you fuck me into the mattress as long as we turn off the lights, alright?”  

I can feel my mouth drop as Kurt stares at me, his eyes blazing. It takes a couple of seconds before I give a small cough and raise my right hand, showing the silver band on my ring finger. “I’m married.”

There’s a precipice before Kurt raises his left, showing his own golden band. “So am I.” And then he’s in my arms, crying and sobbing as he buries his head into the crook of my neck.  

It’s too much, I think. It’s too much because it feels wrong, hugging someone this way that’s not Sebastian. It hurts because being this close to someone makes me remember Sebastian’s arms and his lips and his heartbeat, and I want to remember it, I do, but it hurts so much. And then I feel a tear stray down my cheek, and then I’m hugging and crying as well. Me, crying, on the front porch of someone’s home and hugging a complete stranger. Life is so funny.

When Kurt lets go he takes a small sniff before he runs back into his house. Which is strange, because he doesn’t say “thank you” for letting him cry on my shoulder. So I walk back home feeling numb from the tears with my expensive suit rumpled. I keep thinking of Kurt and how emotionless he was when he told me to “fuck” him and I shudder. Because that isn’t what it should be, emotionless. It’s supposed to be a connection between two people who love each other. Then I close my eyes and think of the times me and Sebastian “fucked” and how I always told him I preferred the term “making love”. And every time when we were laying in bed naked and sweaty Sebastian would kiss me and say, “as long as it’s with you, Killer.” Then I remember Sebastian in that shower, his back arching off the wall as a man sucked him off, and that’s all it takes until I feel my legs give off, my body falling with a thud.

I don’t know what happens after that, except the feeling of a strong pounding in my head and being unable to breathe. It might have been minutes, maybe hours before I feel myself being carried off the ground, and I can hear Cooper murmuring into my ear. “Breathe, Blaine”, he says, and I do, I start fast and then I slow down. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears and Cooper’s carrying me still, bridal style, and I can see other people on the street giving us looks.

I hate those looks.

I feel the cold air of my house hit me when Cooper kicks the door open, ignoring my mum’s, “Cooper? Blaine?” and he walks up the stairs to my room, laying me down on my bed and grabbing my desk chair. He spins it around, sitting with his legs between the gaps as his eyes trail my face. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. All I do is stare up at the ceiling, my body numb and eyes tired. He sits in silence and waits- for what, I don’t know.

Because I don’t want to tell him. About Kurt, and about how he looked at me funny and how he asked me to fuck him. Because that’d make me a bad person. That I could’ve done to Sebastian what Sebastian had done to me, and I don’t want to do that, I don’t. Because I love Sebastian, more than anything, and hurting him like he’d hurt me isn’t something I want to do.

Karma, I chant.

So instead I ask, “How’s Serena and Thomas?” and Coop raises and eyebrow.  

But he doesn’t question, which is what I love about Coop. Instead he tells me about Serena and how she’s a teacher at a high school and how they all love her. He tells me, quite proudly, that her female students swoon whenever he picks her up and how they have their own fanclub for him. Coop says that if I’d ever followed him to pick her up, I’d have my own as well.

“Genetics, Blaine. We have good ones.”

He starts talking about Thomas- about how he loves football and skateboarding, about a girl in his class called Molly who he fawns over daily and sighs dazily about when he speaks about her. He tells me about how they’d been out for lunch one day when a gay couple had been harassed by the waitress, and how Thomas had stood up and approached her.

“He said, and I shit you not, Blaine, “My uncle is gay and he’s a much better person than you’ll ever be.” and sat back down. Can you believe it? Holy shit, the look on her face, I actually couldn’t stop laughing. Imagine being told you’re horrible by a freaking seven year old.”

And then I’m crying again, because I feel bad. Bad because Kurt had asked me to fuck him, and the idea thrilled me. Because I found Kurt attractive the same way I found Sebastian attractive, and suddenly the room feels like it spins. Coop slips his hand into mine and holds it tightly.

“Look Blaine, I know  you. You’re selfless and brave, and anyone who says otherwise is full of bull. I know you don’t think you are, but you’re the greatest person I know, and I’m sorry for the shit you’ve been through and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to hold you through it all. But believe me, okay? When I say you’re a good person.”

I close my eyes and squeeze it shut-maybe one day I’ll believe it too.

 

* * *

 

“Can I ask you something?”

Casey looks at me and smiles.

“Of course, ask away.”

I take a breath and turn my gaze away from her and start counting the number of patterns on her pillow. “If, say, I found another guy who isn’t Sebastian attractive, does that make me a bad person?” Casey’s brow raises in surprise. “Of course not,” she says slowly, “It’s perfectly normal. Do you, uh, know this guy?” she scrunches her nose and throws a leg over the other. I trace the patterns. I think of his cold eyes and his nose and his elvish ears. I think of how he’d stared at me throughout dinner and how he wanted me to “fuck him into the mattress”.

I feel sick.

“No,” I say, turning to look at her, “he’s my friend’s step brother. I don’t plan on doing anything, if that’s what you’re scared of. I love Sebastian, but I saw Kurt and found him attractive. Not in the way I find Sam or Finn attractive, but in a way that I should feel bad for while being a married man.” Casey doesn’t reply, so I continue, “And when I did, I felt horrible. Horrible because that makes me think of how Sebastian had hurt me. And I’m scared, because I’m terrified of the fact that Kurt won’t be the last man who I find attractive, and I don’t want that to happen because it’ll seem like I want to let him go, which I don’t-”

“Blaine,” Casey says, and she has a hand on my knee, “you finding this Kurt guy attractive doesn’t make you a villain. It’s normal. Just because you find one man besides your husband attractive doesn’t mean you’re going to, you know, be damned into all hell.”

I sit there and bite my lip. I can’t think of anything else to say, so I ask.

“Do you believe in silver linings, Casey?”

She smiles.

“I do Blaine, I really do.”

 

* * *

 

I really think I’m improving in my singing. I’ve been over to Rachel’s house a couple of times in the past few days, and she’s been training me on holding my vibratos. Rachel can get very intense, so I try to stay in best shape by singing in the shower or when I’m alone in my room. When Coop comes over he tells me to shut up, while my mum tells him to be quiet because she thinks I have a lovely voice. Coop says I’m only allowed to sing if he sings with me, which usually leads to us standing on the piano and yelling Duran Duran songs. Mum always gets really happy and claps really loudly when we’re done. Dad shakes his head and tells us we’re “abnormal” but he’s always smiling a little when he tells us this. It’s funny because mum told me once that Dad used to be a performing arts major in college, but he had to give it up because my grandfather told him that was “for faggots.” I felt sad when I heard that because my dad now has a faggot for a son. Mum heard me say this and she got really angry really fast and told me if I ever think that again she’ll get Coop to steal all my Katy Perry posters.

 

* * *

 

It’s Monday when I decide to go out jogging. I change into  my sweats and I go downstairs and kiss my mum and nod at my dad and then I’m out, jogging and running and listening to my ragged breathing as I jog down the street. I see a woman helping an elderly man get his groceries, and I smile because I believe she’ll be graced with loads of great karma.

“Hey!”

I keep jogging.

“Hey, Anderson! Hey!”

When I hear my name I stop and turn, my breath hitching in my throat as I see Kurt jog towards me. He’s wearing a ripped blue hoodie (which seems to have been ripped from purchase, fashion’s so weird) and grey sweats. He looks very different, no longer pale but with a hint of colour in his cheeks when he approaches me. “Blaine,” he starts, “Hey, I saw you jogging.”

“Hey, Kurt.” I say, and I have nothing else to add so I keep jogging.

“Hey! What the hell? Where are you going?”

“I usually jog alone.”

“Why can’t I jog with you?”

“Because I like being alone!” I call, and this isn’t me being mean, because I slip in a quick “please” after my sentence. I keep jogging and Kurt keeps following me, which is weird. I run faster, but Kurt’s just as fast.

“Stop following me!” I yell, my nerves ticking slightly.

“I’m not fucking following you, this is my street!” He yells back, waving his hands along the row of houses. “Plus, I wanted to apologize, I guess.” He says, looking at me. “I shouldn’t have insulted your eating habits and I shouldn’t have asked you to fuck  me. I’m kind of a bitch, okay? That’s what I do. If it makes you feel any better, I really liked the outfit you wore. It’s a Topman classic. Very chic. Also I know  what it’s like to lose someone you love, and I’m crazy too, so if you need any pills just come to me.” And then he’s turning and jogging away, and I’m left standing there confused.

 

* * *

 

I’m not really sure how  it happens, but we sort of fall into routine. I get up, slip into my shorts and shirt and after kissing my mum and nodding at my dad, I go out jogging. I spend the first few hundred metres alone, staring at the trees and the plants and the people. Then I’m joined by Kurt, who’s always wearing some new interesting jogging clothes. We never talk though, just jog.

For some reason I think Kurt’s jogging because he’s running away. I feel bad for jumping to those sort of conclusions, but it’s what it seems to be. I think when he runs he’s running away from a life without his husband, and all the messy situations he’s faced. We always run, but we never say anything. I’ve tried sometimes, asking him how  his day is, but he never replies. At first I tried speaking to myself, telling stories about what Coop does or what Seb used to say about certain things. He never said much, so I stopped talking altogether. It’s nice, the quiet. It’s also nice having someone be by your side.

 Sometimes, though, I can’t help but feel like I’m running from something too.

 

* * *

 

“What do you know about Kurt Hummel?” I ask.

Sam looks up from his comic book and purses his lips. “Kurt? You’ve met Kurt?” I nod. Sam sighs. “He’s a really great guy. I met him around six years ago. He was super cool. He was witty and smart and he always insulted my clothes. But there was his husband,” Sam slows down his flipping, “Eric. You know those couples who are just so freaking sweet it gives you cavities? Yeah, they were that. Like, super happy. It was always “Kurt and Eric”, never just one without the other.

“Eric died two summers ago. I’m not really sure how it happened, but I heard a car was involved. Kurt changed. Like, instantly. It was really weird, being around him. He was sad for the first few  months and then he was angry all the time. Then he started sleeping around and he got fired from his job and- yeah, man. I don’t know. It was hard for all of us, Eric’s death, but Kurt took it the worst.”

“Oh.” Is all I can say.

We sit in silence. I’m trying to process everything that Sam’s told me and I feel really sad. Sad because Sebastian is still alive, but Eric is dead. I still have hope, but Kurt’s lonely. Then I think of how Kurt keeps jogging with me even though we never talk and how sometimes I catch him staring at me looking sad.

Alone.

“Look,” Sam starts, “this town is full of the worst. Tons of assholes. You’re going to hear a ton of crap from all sorts of different people, especially about Kurt. All I’m asking is that you don’t trust them, okay? Don’t believe anything that isn’t told by the guy himself. He’s a good person, I promise.”

“I never thought of him as a bad person”, I say, “He just seems very lonely, and don’t think he I should be. I think he should have loads of friends and he should be surrounded by people who love him. I think everyone should have an opportunity to be so happy and loved that they can’t breathe. Is that weird?”

When Sam doesn’t answer, I look up. He’s sitting with his mouth in the shape of an “o” and his eyes are wide. He smiles then, his face soft as he goes back to his comic book.

“Hell no, dude.”

 

* * *

 

When I get back home, mum tells me that I can finally call my best friend from the bad place. We haven’t spoken in ages, so I rush to my house phone and I dial the number the doctor’s gave me when I want to call. So I wait for the line and it rings, where I sit patiently with my hands on my knees. The call picks up and I smile.

“Hello, Blaine Anderson speaking.”

“Well if it isn’t the fucking Hobbit I didn’t get to say goodbye to,” Santana purrs, and I laugh because I really do miss her.

“Hey San, how are you?”

“Bored, obviously. How can a hot piece of ass, such as myself, have any fun when I’m surrounded by old farts?” I laugh again, “Yet somehow you never seemed bored when I was around.”

“Of course not. With the over gelled hair and the ridiculous amount of bow ties you wore, it was hard not to have insults at the ready. I miss you and your flaming homo ways.”

When I first met Santana, words like that would’ve probably shocked me. Now though, we’re so close it’s not really surprising. [Santana Lopez](http://www.wallpapers-photos.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/Naya-Rivera-photo.jpg) is a Latino woman who I met two weeks into my stay at the bad place. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to say anything before she’d insulted me with three different words I’d never heard of. She’d then held my arm and told me she was my new “hot young beard” and that we’d have a happy life together. It took me a while to figure out she was joking and she’d actually just wanted to be friends. People do the darnest things.

Santana’s in the bad place because she has a “sex addiction”. I found it weird to be put in the bad place simply because a person liked sex, but then Santana told me she was having sex with at least eight different guys daily and that kind of scared me. Seb and I, we probably had it at least once in two days, but the last few months before the whole crazy thing happened we probably were having it at least once a week. Santana doesn’t feel bad about it though. She thinks we live in a “CIS-white-male dominated society that wants to oppress the sexual desires of women because they’re sexist.” I hadn’t known what that meant at the time so I’d just nodded.

But she’s better, she thinks. [Brittany ](http://www.northhollyhood.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Heather-Morris.jpg)and her had met a few months back, and now she says she’s in love.  

“She’s something,” Santana says softly on the phone, “Like, I don’t know. I look at her and it’s like the world’s not that fucked up anymore.  Like every fucking mistake I’ve made doesn’t really matter. I never knew what it was like to be in love, or be loved, for that matter. But she makes me feel so connected and safe, and sometimes when I look at her it’s like I can’t _breathe,_ Blaine. I used to think sex was just something to blow off steam, but with her?It’s so different. It’s meaningful and sweet and I just don’t know anymore, how I lived without knowing her. It’s so funny.” She sounds like she’s really happy, so I wish her congrats.

“I hope you find someone who’ll make you feel like this, Blaine. And don’t you dare say anything about Sebastian-” she warns as she hears the noise I make in protest, “Because I don’t care how much you don’t believe me, but Sebastian’s a prick. What he did to you wasn’t cool. I know I insult your stupid bright-eyed face a lot but I do love you Blaine, I do.”

“I love you too, Santana.”

“Which is why I think you deserve better. I think you need someone to love you and your fucked up self. I think you need to find someone who puts up with all your credulous bullshit and who won’t break your heart, alright?”

I don’t agree with her, but arguing with Santana is pointless, so I say “Yes ma’am” and she laughs. “I’ve got to go, the doctor’s calling me. Promise we’ll see each other soon?”

“I promise. Bye, Santana.”

“Bye, pretty pony.”

And the line goes dead.

 

* * *

 

When I go out jogging the next day, I have a plan. I have a plan to make Kurt happy. I want to show him that I do care about him even though I barely know him. So when I find him next to my side I say “hey”. He doesn’t reply though, so I stop and plant myself in front of him.

“Hey, Kurt.”

“I heard you the first time. Hi.”

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

Kurt’s eyes flicker with something, but his gaze hardens. “A date?” he says, but I shake my head. “No, dinner with two friends.”

“Friends?”

“I like to think we are, yes.”

His eyes harden, but he says, “Meet me at the dine. Eight o’clock.” And he runs off.

So I get back home and I take a shower and I change into my comfy clothes. Coop and Thomas stop by so I play with him in the garden and then I’m sweaty again which makes me sad, so I take another shower and I get ready for dinner with Kurt. When I reach the diner I already see Kurt at the window, sitting as he plays with his food.

“Hello.”

“Hey yourself.” Kurt says as I take a seat across. I order chocolate milk from the waitress while Kurt looks at me like I’m stupid. When she walks away, he talks. “So is this dinner an offer for you to fuck me again?” It takes me aback, but I shake my head. “Two people can be friends without actually making love.”

Kurt laughs, “Did you just call it “making love”?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Sex isn’t making love,” he points out, stabbing his fork, “There’s nothing loving about it. It’s fucking. Plain old, fucking. Where’s the romance? It’s hard and fast and sometimes you’re not left satisfied. There’s no “love”, it’s just “sex”.”

“But it’s not just sex,” I argue, “It matters! When you have it with someone special there’s an emotional connection.” Kurt rolls his eyes, “Yeah, well the last person I felt a connection with is fucking dead, so it’s a bit of a sore spot for me now, thank you very much.”

And then I’m quiet. Because I don’t know what to say when someone mentions their dead loved one. Kurt doesn’t say anything either. Just furiously chews his salad. So we sit and I wait for him to start the conversation, which I find is fair. And he does.

“So what were you in the crazy house for?”

“Well, I came home one day after work, and I walk in and I hear my wedding song, “Teenage Dream”, playing from upstairs, and I hear the shower turned on right? So I walk inside and I go up the stairs and I go and greet my husband “hello”, but I already see him in the shower with my co-worker, Charlie. So I grab Charlie and I start beating him, because I was really angry, and the next thing I knew, my hands were stained with his blood.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t call me names. Instead he chews on his salad and says, “Then why do you still love your husband?”

“Probably the same reason you still love yours.”

He shrugs at that. “Touche.”

My food comes then, so I say thank you to the waitress and start eating. “How about you?” I ask, looking up at him. “What were you on meds for?”

“Well,” Kurt drawls, “I was working at a design company a few months back, and I had sex with everyone in the office.” 

“Everyone?”

“Yeah.”

“Even the women?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you.. gay?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he states blankly, “it’s just sex. It doesn’t matter what gender they were, I did it with everyone I could find, men or women. One day I was with a man, and I was riding him in his office, and my boss walked in and that was that. She called security and I got sent for therapy.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

I stare at my food, my brain buzzing and my head spinning. “How many?” I ask. Kurt pauses. He seems to be mentally counting. Then he says, “I had sex with a total of two hundred and forty people.”

“Kurt,” I say, my eyes widen, “have you gotten checked? You don’t know the diseases you could’ve gotten-”

“Yes I’ve checked, Blaine, and I’ve always worn a condom. Does that make you happy?”

“You’re throwing yourself around, Kurt!” I groan, rubbing my hands down my face, “you’re just, throwing yourself around like you don’t matter, but you do Kurt, you do matter-”

And I don’t know what those words mean to him, but it’s like a switch turns on. His eyes widen and his face turns red as he sits back and grits his teeth. “Are you judging me?”

“What- No, I just-”

“I open up to you and you do this?” he sneers, “You’re a hypocrite. You are a conformist. You are an asshole- I open up to you and you judge me? Because I’m the crazy slut with a fucking dead husband-” Kurt throws his head back and laughs, and the whole diner’s staring at us now, which makes me slump in my seat. He gets up then, and he swipes his hands across the table, sending all our plates and glasses crashing onto the cold marble ground. “Fuck you!”  I watch helplessly as he gets up, the diner silent as the front door opens and slams shut.

 

* * *

  

I can’t stop thinking about how I’d hurt Kurt the night before, so after calling Cooper and asking his opinion, I’m jogging to Kurt’s home and ringing his doorbell. There’s no answer for the first ten seconds, but then the door is pulled open and there’s a man standing there, but it isn’t Kurt. Instead, it’s a burly looking man wearing a baseball cap and a plaid shirt and torn jeans. He scratches his head, “Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Blaine Anderson. Is Kurt home?”

When I ask for Kurt, the man’s eyes harden. His body stiffens and he looks at me really angry and says, “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’ve heard enough of my son to know what he’s doing. He’s a good kid, and I love him, and what he’s been doing, this, sleeping around, it’s not right. So I need to ask you to go a-”

I feel my heart drop when Kurt’s dad looks at me. He looks angry and sad at the same time, so I say “No, Mr. Hummel, you don’t understand. Kurt’s just my friend. We go jogging. I said something horrible to him yesterday and I need to apologize. I promise I would never do that to  your son and plus I’m married-” I show him my ring, “And I really love my husband, so please, believe me when I say we’re just friends and I just need to apologize-”

Then suddenly there’s another man next to me and he’s asking for Kurt too, but he doesn’t look like someone Kurt’s friends with and he looks like someone who wants sex. Kurt’s dad sees it too because his face falls and he looks so sad, so I step in instead and I tell the guy, I say, “What you’re doing isn’t cool. I know what you want and I think you shouldn’t ask that of Kurt. Kurt is a nice person who’s been through a very bad time and he needs support, and you’re not helping him with that. If you leave him alone I promise loads of good Karma will fall on you and you’ll feel much better about yourself.” I turn to Mr. Hummel and say, “Please tell Kurt I’ve been here and that I really need to speak to him.” I thank him and I turn around and start jogging again. It’s after the first hundred metres when I hear someone behind me, and then I hear a “Blaine!” that I turn.

I see Kurt running towards me, his hair swept up with his light brown highlights standing out in the sun. He’s wearing the same dark coat he wore when I met him that first night. He stands before me, panting and his hands curled around him. I don’t say anything, and neither does he. We just stand there, staring at the other. He looks around and turns back.

“I heard what you told that guy at the door,” he says finally, “I just wanted to say thanks, even though I was perfectly capable of telling him that myself. But thanks.”

I rub my neck, “I actually came to say sorry. About last night,” he tilts his chin up at that, “I didn’t mean to hurt you that way.”

Kurt folds his arms and purses his lips. “It’s not like I haven’t had people say things to me before,” he says, “I know what people perceive me as. I don’t care though, I never really did. What people said about me wasn’t what defined me as a person. I know what I am and what I’m not. It’s just that I do all this crazy things that I never thought about before. Then you told me that I mattered, and those were the words my dad had told me so long ago, when he gave me that stupid sex talk. And it hit me, because it got me thinking about how I wasn’t the only one suffering, and I’d gone home last night and told my dad that I’ll stop. The sleeping around, the lying, I just- I’m tired. I’m tired of all the crap I’ve done for people, and how I never felt good about it.” He looks at me then, “Which is why I’ve decided to help you. Provided you do the same for me. I can get you to talk to Sebastian,” my heart stops at that, “through letters. Rachel and him still see each other now and then, I could easily pass him one.”

I can feel my heart pounding in my ears as I watch Kurt’s expression soften. I can’t breathe, thinking that I might have a chance to talk to Sebastian. “What do I have to do in return?” His lips quirk and he says, “There’s a talent show in a few weeks. Duets. I was going to ask Rachel, but God knows how many fights there’ll be. Finn told you me you were a lead soloist, so I was wondering if you’d like to perform with me?”  

My head’s still spinning from the possibility of speaking with Sebastian, so all I do is nod yes and smile when Kurt says, “Fantastic!” and trots off.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Sebastian,_

_It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Nine months is a really long time. A woman could’ve given birth by now! I guess. Anyways, when Kurt gives this to you, can you thank him again for me? Also give him a hug, because he’s been through a lot and deserves one. I hope you and Kurt are friends, it’d be very nice. Kurt’s very nice and I wish him all the happiness he can get._

_My time at the bad place hadn’t been very fun. There’s a lot of old people who smell and eat peanuts all day. I try to be very nice to them but they always yelled at me. I was sad at first then I remembered that people in the bad place are expected to be like that. I made a friend! She was my best friend from the bad place, her name is Santana. She’s Latino and she’s very beautiful (but I think she knows that already). She’s in there for a sex addiction but she’s now really happy with this girl called Brittany, who’s very beautiful too. People always talk about how they’re such an attractive couple, and I really have to agree!_

_I would've thought it’d be nice for you to meet Santana, but then I remember on how scary she can be with new people. Plus, I don’t think you’d like her very much either because she’s really feisty. You two would probably fight a lot. Isn’t it funny how the people I love always end up being the feistiest?_

_I’m living with mum and dad now. Mum keeps asking me how I am every second, as if I’m going to break, and it’s kind of annoying, I guess. Me and dad still talk, but I don’t think he likes mentioning you because it keeps reminding him that I’m gay and not straight. He tells me he loves me though, which he never said much before. Coop visits with Thomas, who I love very much. Thomas and I always play tag in the garden and Serena always hugs me too tight before they leave._

_Seb, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I really miss you, and I still love you. I don’t care about what you did, and how you cheated on me. It’s my fault to be honest, I realized I let myself go the last few months we were together. I hardly said “I love you” and I never made you feel special. I hardly gave you flowers and I never told you how much you mean to me. So I’m sorry, Sebastian, I really am._

_You should know that I’ve lost a lot of weight since I last saw you! I’m now back to being 74 kilograms. I took up boxing again and I go jogging everyday. I hope when we see each other again you’ll be amazed by my weight loss! I’m singing again, and I’ll be duet-ting (is that a word? It should be) with Kurt at a talent show in a few weeks. You should come! I’m still having trouble listening to Teenage Dream but I think I’ll get there._

_The point is, I guess, is that I really miss you. A lot. I love you Sebastian, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I hope to see you soon._

_Love, with all my heart,_

_Blaine._

* * *

At my next therapy session, I tell Casey about how I’m planning to sing at the talent show with Kurt. She seems very happy when I tell her this, which makes me happy too. When I tell Coop, Coop scoops me up in his arms and hugs me really tight. When I tell mum and dad, mum claps really happily and dad just flips through his newspaper.

I meet Kurt at his house, where I see Mr. Hummel and nod “hello”. I tell him that we’re singing together for the talent show and that I’m very excited because Sebastian will probably come and I haven’t seen him in a while. Mr. Hummel looks very amused, and he thanks me for “being friends with Kurt”, which I find weird, but I smile anyway.

When I go inside, Kurt’s in his [studio](http://images04.olx.com/ui/5/90/97/1268752452_81008397_2-Dance-Studio-Space-Available-for-Rent-in-Central-Jersey-Fords.jpg), sitting on the floor with his head tilted back and his earphones plugged in. I walk towards him and sit across, where he looks up and smiles. I smile back at him and hand him the letter, which he takes and tells me he’ll give to Sebastian when he sees him. He starts talking about the date of the show, and the judges and our competition. I tell him that he’s really done his research and that he’s very hard-working, and he blushes and smiles. He thanks me and passes me the headphones, which I slip in.

“We’re going to sing this song together. It’s very personal and it's very emotional, so we really have to give it our all. I’m not sure if you’re a fan of Stephen Sondheim, but he’s a lyrical genius. So when you listen to this song, I need you to feel. Like, really feel. Listen to the lyrics and try and connect, okay?”

So I nod and I press play, and I listen as the sharp sounds of a piano begin. Slowly, then it picks up, the song building as the singer croons into my ear. I close my eyes, squeeze it shut, listen to the lyrics. At the finale, where there’s a drumroll and the singer’s now yelling the lyrics with so much power and emotion, I feel like I’m swaying. Because I feel it. I can feel the singer’s pain and their power and their struggle. So strongly so that when I open my eyes, I realize I’m crying. There are tears streaming down my face, hot and fast, and Kurt’s staring at me, and he’s smiling sadly. I don’t say anything, just wait for the song to finish. When it does, I remove the earplugs and gasp.

“I-”

“I know,” Kurt says, and he holds my hand.

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

The days and weeks that follow all fall in routine. I get up, jog where Kurt joins me, and we go back to his place to practice. Some days I eat dinner with Coop’s family, others at home or sometimes with Sam and his gorgeous wife Mercedes. Most days though, I eat dinner with Kurt at the diner or with his family. His father’s name is Burt, who loves his son a lot and tells me funny stories about Kurt and his teenage obsession with glitter and Lady Gaga and it usually leaves me in stitches. Kurt acts annoyed a lot, but he smiles a bit when me and Burt laugh.  

Kurt’s step-mom is Carole, who I’ve known from my days with Finn and Rachel in high school. She remembers me extremely well, so much so that she tells Burt and Kurt all the stories of me dancing and singing in furniture and how I had once had our Glee Club serenade a man three years older than me with a song about sex toys in a Gap department store that led to him getting fired. Kurt and Burt laugh so hard that they both have are red in the face and I can see all of Kurt’s teeth. At first I feel embarrassed, but I think that seeing Kurt look so happy is worth it.

Kurt who, for some reason, has magically become my closest friend in just a few weeks.

When we practice, we joke and we have fun and Kurt has a very nice voice. He’s very smart and witty and I can see why Sam and Finn and Rachel like him so much. Sometimes though, he gets sad, and on those days I just sit next to him and we think in silence. What I’ve learnt about Kurt is that he loves his parents and he loves singing and fashion and coffee, which I think all suit Kurt very well, if that makes sense. I like it when he laughs, because he has small teeth that show when he does, and his eyes go really small and crinkly. I tell him this, and he just rolls his eyes and tells me that I do that too. And then I’d looked in his studio mirror and smiled, and I realized that I do, which is weird because Sebastian had never pointed it out. Kurt likes to roll his eyes a lot, and he also likes to criticize people’s fashion choices. Usually I’d find things like that mean, but it seems so Kurt that I don’t really mind.

I ask Casey if me suddenly becoming so close with a gay man is a bad sign. She seems very excited when I say this because she smiles really big and tells me that there’s nothing wrong with it, nothing at all.

Whenever we practice, Kurt refuses to look at me. He tells me that when we practice, we shouldn’t look at each other. He says that we’re only allowed to look at each other at the actual performance itself, because that will make things much emotional and that we’ll feel the song more if we do. So when we sing in the studio we look at the floor or at the ceilings or at the walls, anywhere but each other, because I really want to win so that Sebastian will be proud.

 

* * *

 

“Eric died two years ago.” Kurt says one day when we’re taking a break from singing. I look at him, but he’s staring at the window on his right. “I don’t really... I don’t know how it happened, but we got into a fight. He’d broken the coffee machine and I was having a week from hell, and I blew up. I yelled at him and I was just so angry that he’d broken it, and I’d lost it. He apologized at first, and then I said something that pissed him off, and then he’d yelled back. We argued for a good ten minutes before he took his keys and said he’d buy us a new one.” He takes a really deep breath and continues. “Me and Eric had this thing where we would never leave the house on bad terms, so he’d come up to me then and kissed me and told me he loved me and that he was sorry. I felt so bad and I just hated us fighting, so I told him I loved him too and he walked out of the door to buy us a new coffee machine.” Kurt bites his lip then, closing his eyes and playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. “The police came by a few hours later. Car accident, you know? It always is. They’d found his body in the mangled mess that was his car and they found the fucking coffee machine in the _fucking front seat_ -” and then he’s crying really hard, shaking with sobs and snot and I pull him into a hug. We stand like that for a while, him just crying and me just holding him. He takes a step back and wipes his eyes and his nose and he swallows.

“I blamed myself, and I guess I still kind of do. But, I’m learning to forgive myself, I guess, because I don’t think Eric would’ve wanted me to feel that way. I’m getting better I think, and I think I’m moving on,” he looks at me, “and I think you should too, I guess. Because I think you deserve someone better than Sebastian. I’m sorry Blaine, but I do. I think so because you’re good at you’re kind and you don’t deserve to whine for someone who doesn’t deserve your love, and it sounds really pretentious of me to say this, but it’s true. Can we make a promise, Blaine? To not blame ourselves and hate ourselves because I don’t think that’s what our husbands would want, okay?”

He holds out his pinky and waits. So I stick out my pink too and I curl it around his.

“Okay,” is all I can say.

 

* * *

 

“So we’re doing it,” Kurt says another day when we’re lying on the studio floor. He gets up and takes his dock and he puts his iPhone on it. We’ve talked about this a couple of times, and I’d asked him to help me go through with it. He sits back down in front of me and he tells me to look right at him, just him and nothing else. “Don’t think, don’t speak, don’t imagine. Just look at me, okay? That’s it.” And I do, and then I hear the fast plucking of a guitar string and then the sultry vocals of Katy Perry. My hands start twitching but I’m still staring at Kurt, who’s looking at me and speaking with his eyes. “Just look at me,” it says, so I do, and then Kurt’s hands slip into mine and I don’t move. I focus on his warm hands and his glasz eyes and how they spark with a number of different colours, exploding and shining and I focus, focus on that and not the song. When it hits the chorus, my hands flinch, but Kurt just squeezes it tighter and he looks at me a little more determined. So that’s how we go, sitting and staring and holding hands, and when I begin to breathe really quickly that it turns into panting, Kurt starts whispering soothingly and he starts singing along to the lyrics. And I focus on that, on his voice and his words and then I feel my shoulders slump and my brain relax. When the song finishes, Kurt smiles. A real smile, one of the first real smiles I’ve seen in a long time.

“You did it.” he says.

“I did.” Is my reply.

“It’s kind of sad,” he says, “I would’ve liked to have been there the first time you’d sang this song.” And I pause, and I think of what life would’ve been like if he’d been there instead of Sebastian, and I say, “I kind of wish you were too.”

“Well fuck me, please pardon my presence if you two are partaking in some spiritual gay meditation,” comes a voice, and I look up and see Santana, leaning against the doorway with a big smile on her face. I laugh and I stumble towards her, throwing my arms around her and lifting her off the ground as she laughs in my ear. When I pull apart, I kiss her on the cheek and I ask her why she’s here. She rolls her eyes and swats my arm and tells me that “There’s only so much gay I can get on myself, Anderson,” and says that the bad place allowed her to visit for a day, and that when she’d gone to my house my mother had told her to come here. I look at Kurt then, who’s staring at Santana with wide eyes as he takes in [her short, green dress and her knee length boots](http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/17/80/9c/17809c5e0895faf5d0f758e14d5fb5e6.jpg). For once though, he doesn’t seem disgusted. Impressed even, which makes me smile.

“Kurt, this is Santana. Santana, this is Kurt.”

“So you’re the gay who’s looking after my boy,” she says, shaking his hand, “you best be doing a good job, because if you aren’t, there’s a place called Lima Heights Adjacent-”

“Okay, Santana,” I warn, “me and Kurt are practicing for a pretty big thing now, so if you wouldn’t mind just watc-”

“Me? Watching?” she scoffs and swivels her hips to the music from Kurt’s iPod, “I expect a dance, hobbit, and I’m expecting it today.” she beckons me with a finger, wiggling her eyebrows as I laugh, making my way towards her and dragging Kurt by the hand.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Blaine,_

_It’s great to hear from you. I’m really proud of how well you’re doing. Honestly, I am. I’ve heard loads about you from Rachel and Finn and how you’re ridiculously handsome and mature. It was very emotional for me to get this letter, as you can imagine._

_I have to admit that I can hear the positivity and the exuberance you’re giving off in your letter. It makes me so happy that you’re finally becoming the man I know you are. Tell Cooper I said hello, and kiss Serena and Thomas for me, okay? Send my regards to Sam, and I’m sure I’d love to meet Santana. Someone to argue with is always an interesting challenge._

_As wonderful as it is to hear from you Blaine, I still think that we shouldn’t be on speaking terms. I need you to give me more time before we see each other again, and I think it’ll be best if you try to move on with your life, if that’s alright._

_But you matter Blaine, you really do, and I think it’d be best if you and I tried to live separate lives. I’m proud of you Blaine, I really am, and I hope you’ll love me through everything and that we can still remain friends._

_Forever yours,_

_Sebastian._

 

* * *

 

When Kurt had given me Sebastian’s letter, I’d wasted no time in ripping off the envelope and scanning the page. Kurt had stood next to me silently as I’d read it out loud, my voice faltering with every sentence. When I’d finished, I’d looked up and at him. He was staring, eyes with tears and his body closed. I wasn’t crying. I didn’t, I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I didn’t have the strength. So instead I’d excuse myself for todays practice and I’d gone straight home and had laid down on my bed. Yet, I hadn’t cried at all. My body had just shut down, and Coop had found me two hours later and dragged me down the staircase himself. The whole time throughout dinner, the numbness didn’t leave, and it stayed with me throughout the night, all the way to the time I had to fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

The next day, I walk to Kurt’s addition at the back of his house. I knock on the door, and there’s no reply, so instead I turn the knob and find it open before going inside. Kurt’s lying on the sofa, snoring with a book on his lap. I smile at him, looking peaceful and with little worry, so I walk downstairs to his dance studio and start stretching. Then I see on the floor near the mirror a pretty black book, thrown open with a list of dates on it. A journal, I guess as I lazily sneak a glance.

But then I see something.

 

**November 23rd:**

_Had dinner at Finn and Rachel’s. Met Blaine Anderson, their friend. Asked him to fuck me, he said no._

**November 26th:**

_Screwed over a lady from the grocery store. Yelled at a cat._

**November 27th:**

_Somehow became Blaine’s jogging partner._

**November 29th:**

_Therapist wants to quit. No surprise._

**December 3rd:**

_Blaine asked me to dinner. Ended with me telling him to fuck off and smashing restaurant plates. I call that progress._

**December 4th:**

_Found a duet partner for talent show. Also heard someone stand up for me today. Also had to restrain commenting on Rachel’s ugly reindeer sweater._

**December 8th:**

_Blaine has nice eyes._

**December 9th:**

~~_And ass._ ~~

**December 11th:**

_He’s so nice._

**December 15th:**

I feel happy.

**December 20th:**

_Blaine makes me happy._

**January 8th:**

_I think I might love him._

**January 18th:**

_I’m in love with Blaine Anderson._

 

And then I can’t breathe, because I think of Kurt and his laugh and his jokes and how he’d smile at me a lot and how I’d catch him looking at me sadly. And how I thought he was lonely and how I thought he was. But he wasn’t.

Love.

And it’s all too much, and I”m running back home. Charging up the stairs and into my room where I slam the door shut and grab Sebastian’s letter from my bedside drawer and I read it again and again, loud and clear and I mutter, looking and reading and rubbing my face and my arms and _“-you matter Blaine”_

And then it all clicks.

 

* * *

 

It’s the night of the talent show, and I’m wearing another suit my mother had given me and I gel my hair to make it look neat. Not too much, Coop tells me, or “you’ll look like you’re wearing a fucking helmet.”

My parents are driving us there, and my dad wants to watch us too. We meet Kurt at the front of the hotel, where he’s standing there in a handsome [blue suit](http://www.formulatv.com/images/fgaleria/36000/36075_chris-colfer-glee-upfronts-2013-fox.jpg)that quite matches mine. It makes me smile. We walk inside and I give mum and dad and Coop their tickets, which they thank us for as they head inside. Kurt and I start walking up the staircase to go to our preparation rooms. He grabs my hand, and I squeeze his, and we walk in silence all the way up.

 

“I’ll be right back,” Kurt tells me some time later, when he leaves and starts walking towards the bathrooms. I sit and wait, listening to the other couples around me practice with each other. Many of them have very strong voices, but the songs they’ve chosen aren’t very suitable for their voices. A duo whose voices suit Broadway are singing a Lady Gaga song, and another are singing that strange song about foxes, which confuses me a lot. Then I hear footsteps and I look up and I see Kurt, but Kurt’s crying and his eyes are really red. I ask him what’s wrong, and he stares at me.

“Promise that whatever I tell you won’t affect our performance tonight?”

I shake my head, I say no.

“Sebastian’s here.”

And then I feel hit. “Rachel and Finn brought him,” he says, his chest heaving as he continues, “they thought it’d be a good idea for him to see you, tonight of all fucking nights-”

Kurt doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because the producers are calling us onto the stage. With one last pleading look from Kurt, we walk on stage, and the auditorium is dark. Then, a light shines on Kurt, then on me, and we stand and wait for the applause to die down.

Then, [the music starts](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPKZ-8veNn8).

The starting verse belongs to Kurt. So I look ahead, and take a breath as his voice fills the room. _“Someone to hold you too close,”_ he sings, and the crowd’s captivated. I see some lean in their chairs, to get a closer look at a man whose voice matches his angelic profile. He sings, and I listen, and I spot Sebastian, who’s staring at me with his mouth hanging wide open. _“As frightened as you, of being alive,”_ Kurt sings, and I listen as he holds his note, and I take a breath and sing, holding my gaze with Sebastian as I do.

  _“Somebody hold me too close,”_ I sing, and Sebastian’s eyes are glued, _“Somebody, hurt me too deep.”_

 And he stares, and I sing, about being alive and being free and I do, I feel free, on this stage, I feel free. The verse cuts, and it’s where Kurt and me sing together, our voices filled with emotion, saying more than singing. _“Make me confused,”_ we sing, _“mock me with praise!”_ we yell, “ _Let me be used, vary my days,”_ we plead, and then the drums echo, and we say, “But alone is alone, not alive,” and the crescendo builds, and I take a breathe and I turn to Kurt at the conclusion, and he turns to me, his eyes streaked with tears, _“Somebody crowd me with love,”_ we sing, and I understand now, why Kurt insisted we don’t look at each other until the night itself. Because the emotions and the words and the way Kurt looks like he’s putting his every emotion into the song- it hits a note.

“Somebody force me to care,”

Because I do, Kurt, I really do.

 _“Somebody let me come through, I’ll always be there,”_ and we walk towards the centre, meeting halfway, _“As frightened as you, to help us survive,”_ and then I’m crying too, and the song builds, and Kurt and me stand, staring, singing, taking a breath as we sing the last note.

_“Being alive.”_

And the cymbals clash and the song finishes, and it’s dead silent. There’s no noise, just the heavy sounds of us breathing. And then there’s a clap, then a roar of applause, and I can hear Coop’s yells of, “That’s my brother!” and I laugh, wiping the tears from my eyes as Kurt attacks me with a hug so hard that it nearly knocks us both to the ground.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“No problem.” I say.

   

* * *

 

We don’t win in the end, however. First place goes to a duo who sang a very upbeat version of “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You.” Me and Kurt place second, and Kurt tells me that that’s all that really matters. “As long as it wasn’t last,” he mutters, and then I see Sebastian, and I excuse myself, only missing the way Kurt’s face falls when I do.

I walk up to Sebastian and he stands up from his chair, his eyes widening and his hands falling to his sides. “Blaine,” he breathes, and I smile at him. “Sebastian,” I greet, and then we’re hugging, and it feels nice. “How are you?” I ask, and Sebastian shrugs. “Good, I guess.What about you? You look amazing, killer,” he says, and the nickname makes my heart hurt a bit. So we talk, and it’s nice, catching up with Seb. “Do you want to go for dinner, catch up, maybe more?” he asks.

And then I tell him, I tell him the truth and what has happened and he doesn’t look sad. There’s a moment where his face falls, but I tell him that I still want to be friends and talk to him, so he smiles, and he wishes me good luck. We swap numbers and a long hug goodbye, and then I’m walking away and looking for Kurt. When I don’t find him, I see my dad, and I ask. “Where’s Kurt?”

“He left.” comes his reply.

“What do you mean he left?” and my dad pulls me aside from the crowd and holds me by the shoulders. “Blaine,” he says, “I know that you think I don’t approve of your sexuality and that I hated Sebastian and yours relationship, but that’s not true. I always loved you, gay or straight, but the thing is was that I hated Sebastian as a person. Now pardon my language but he’s a bit of a condescending prick, and he never loved you the way this Kurt loves you. I can tell because of the way he looked at you on that stage- now you don’t get a look like that from just anybody. Now this is me as your father, telling you to go after him, he just ran out and you’re never going to see that man again if you don’t show him now.” and then he’s pushing me, and it’s probably the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had with my dad. But I run, I run out of the hotel and onto the streets and then I’m running and looking and thinking of Kurt Kurt Kurt-

And then I see him a little in front. I catch up and I pull him by the shoulders, and he turns, his face red and streaked with tears. “Would you leave me alone!” he yells and he pulls himself, and I tell him to stop. I take out the letter from my jacket pocket and I pass it to him, “I need you to read me one more letter,” I say, and he slaps it and he yells at me to “Leave me the fuck alone, _please_ ” but I hold him and I tell him again, I say “Kurt, just read this-”

 _“Give it to him yourself!_ ” He yells again.  But I don’t want to fight with him, so I say, “Kurt, just read this, I promise you that if you read this I’ll never bother you again, okay?” He looks at me then and rubs his eyes before he takes the letter in his hands. “This is so fucked up,” he says, and I agree, I say “It is.”

He opens the envelope and he unfolds the letter and he starts, “Dear Kurt-”, and he stops. His hands are shaking. He looks at me again, his eyes are tearing up and he breathes. “I know you wrote the letter. The o-”

“Only way you could meet my crazy was by doing something crazy yourself.” I recite, “Thank you. I love you.” Kurt’s sobbing then, the letter still clasped in his hand that’s fallen to his side. “I knew it the minute I met you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get there, I just got stuck. Blaine.” I finish, and then, “I wrote that a week ago.” Kurt frowns through his tears, “You wrote that a week ago? And you tell me now?” I shrug my shoulders and tell him I was trying to be romantic. A pause. And then he asks.

“You love me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

And then we’re kissing, and it makes me think of the song, of being alive. I think of the man in my arms who’s broken, but he’s on his way to fixing himself. Because he’s broken, but beautiful, and I don’t know how that works, but it does. Because it’s Kurt. And he stops kissing me and hugs me tightly, and he whispers, “I need you Blaine Anderson,” and he tightens his grip and says, “I need you so _fucking bad_.” And I think of Kurt and his laugh and his smile and how much he loves and how Sebastian wouldn’t have done the things Kurt has done for me, even on his best day. So I pull Kurt really close and I press a kiss against his temple, and after a deep breath, I say:

“I think I need you too.”

 

* * *

 

Things are different. It’s not for the worst or for the better, but I’m trying to adjust to everything. Casey tells me I’m much better than before, which I think has to do with the fact that I don’t love and need Sebastian as badly. So I don’t see her as much, maybe once in two weeks or when it gets really bad, once in three days. It’s not too bad, I guess. I think I’m doing quite well. I’m now the co-manager of Sam’s comic book store, and I’m quite proud of it.

Sebastian and I talk, we call and we Skype and he always tells me he loves me, and I tell him I do too, just not in the way I used to mean it. Which is fine, because now we’re comfortable with each other again, comfortable enough that he says things like, “Wow, if I were there I’d take you to the bedroom” and I laugh, because it’s Sebastian, and it’s normal. I find out that he’s happy now with a man who helped him through our divorce. It doesn’t make me feel sad though, so I wish him the best and tell him that I hope he has a good life.

Santana has gotten out of the bad place. The doctors say that she hasn’t had sex with anyone but Brittany her entire stay there, and Santana tells me that she loves Brittany so much and that she thinks “that’s it” for her. I smile and I think they’ll make wonderful mothers one day, because they will. Santana lives in the house across the street now, so she always comes over and sometimes with Brittany when the bad place lets her out, and when she does she insults me with all her love, which is quite a Santana thing to do.

Coop and Serena come over less now because Thomas is starting school again. I don’t really mind, because I still get to see them on weekends and we always play in the garden or catch fireflies. Thomas tells me that he thinks I’m dating a Disney Prince, and I nod. I tell him, “I am.”

Because there’s Kurt. Beautiful Kurt who holds my hand when we eat and who plays with my hair when I’m sleeping. Kurt who loves me and tells me that every day and who had hugged me so tightly the first time I bought him flowers I almost couldn’t breathe. Kurt who I love too because when I see him it’s bright and sunny and I finally understand what Santana had said, when she’d said that “that one person who doesn’t make the world seem so fucked up anymore.” Because Kurt is my person.

The first time we had sex Kurt had cried so hard that I didn’t know what to do but hold him. I’d held him and told him “sorry” because I thought I’d hurt him or something, but then he had turned to me and he’d smiled with his tears bright and he told me that he knew, now, what I meant when I said sex is “making love”. He said that he’d felt loved and that it was everything he’d ever wanted, so I kissed him and his tears and we’d laid there, staring at each other. And Kurt had held me close and he’d put our foreheads together and he’d said, “There you are. I’ve been looking for you forever.”

 

* * *

 

The world will break your heart ten ways to Sunday, that’s guaranteed. And I can’t begin to explain that. But then I think of everything everyone’s done for me, and how much of a lucky guy I am. So yes, I do believe in silver linings because I’ve seen them. I’ve experienced them. I think I’m doing well, and I hope you are too.  This is me, Blaine Anderson, and I’ve found my silver lining.

 


End file.
